


return to me, as you once were

by miragedark



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, based off of necro no hanayome, corpse kissing, please dont cancel me, thats it, uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25178788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miragedark/pseuds/miragedark
Summary: it wouldn’t hurt to satiate his own curiosity, right?
Relationships: Hasumi Keito/Hibiki Wataru
Kudos: 4





	return to me, as you once were

**Author's Note:**

> hi i have been enabled. please take this you know who you are :D  
> (this is for u mini!!)

Wataru’s crypt was the most beautiful thing that Keito had ever seen. 

Of course it was, he had designed every inch of it with painstaking precision, but to see it finished was a fitting reward for the strings he’d had to pull. Golden yellow flowers spanned out across a wide field, save for a small path leading directly to a pure white casket of marble and a small area of smooth, dusty ground surrounding it. The protective glass overtop had been shattered long ago by Keito’s hands, leaving Wataru’s peaceful face exposed to the open air. Tall trees, leafless and spindly, tore through the sky like a network of black veins stretched across the pure white abyss.

At the edges of the elliptical tomb, thin waterfalls fell in crystalline columns, splashing into a gentle river that formed an outer circle of protection to the area. They ran along smooth rocks, the slate-grey stone tinted with the marigold and amber petals that inevitably washed over them. A thin line of slick stepping stones served as the entrance to the area, occasionally they could get a little precarious to balance on, but the cold shock of the slim river was a welcome change from the monotonous temperatures of the afterlife. From a distance, it seemed that the rare passerby would simply see a beautiful meadow, but Keito alone knew of the real treasure hidden deep within.

The eccentric deserved every inch of the paradise that he slept in. Keito was a fraudulent guardian angel at best, one who had failed the very basic task of protecting his assigned benefactor, but he could make that up to him in the afterlife. Day after day, Wataru was rewarded with a peaceful sleep deep within a hidden corner of the Otherworld, far from the reach of other guardian angels. He  _ had  _ to keep the crypt hidden, for his own safety. Guardian angels weren’t supposed to harbor feelings, especially not for the people they failed to protect. Maybe it was a cruel trick of samsara to hold him in place and assign him to the man he died chasing after, but that didn’t change the fact that his actions broke the very Order he was sworn to maintain.

Wataru was long gone, but that didn’t stop him from being as vibrant and colorful as in life. His hair was still that cotton-candy blue as it bled down the sides of his resting place. The effects of death had left some of the soft tissue rotted away. A pointless detail of time, really, because Keito had tracked down two of the most vibrant shards of amethyst stained glass, whittling them down until they fit perfectly within the empty sockets. The atrophy of muscles had caused his peaceful half-smile to drop ever-so-slightly, but Keito could still push the corners of his lips up when he wanted to see the smile once more. With his eyelids closed, he looked like a sleeping princess, waiting for his prince to come along and--save him.

Keito had pulled up the sides of his lips by then, fingers sliding across the thin skin and marvelling at the bones hidden underneath. Wataru had become slightly more gaunt in the passing months, but it was nothing a little cotton stuffing and careful stitching couldn’t fix. Keito would have preferred to have the sewing skills of someone like, say, Kuro, for this job, but pouring all of his concentration into a project could yield similar enough results. The only part he couldn’t bare to touch was Wataru’s perfect face, allowing his skin to sink ever so slightly and grey in color.

Slowly, with all the care in the world, Keito weaved his arms past the bits of jagged glass still adorning Wataru’s casket and took the other into his arms. His light body lifted easily, accompanied by the soft sounds of shifting fabric and hair as white satin skirts fell to the floor, brushing along the tops of flowers surrounding the marble pedestal before falling to the dusty floor circling the casket. The bottom hem of the dress had picked up a bit of a tan tint from the number of times it had touched the ground in the past. Keito swung the other man’s limp arm over his shoulder, using one hand on the small of his back to balance him and grasping a set of fingers in his other. Much of the cold, dead touch was lost to the smooth surface of Keito’s leather gloves, allowing him to act as if the warm pulse under his own skin belonged to Wataru instead.

“Hibiki, you’re getting light. Have you been eating enough lately?”

As Keito spun Wataru around in a graceful sort of twirl, his head bobbed in a sad imitation of a nod, and Keito smiled back at him.

“I’m glad to hear that. You can’t let yourself fall apart just because you’re all alone.” Wataru’s head bobbed again as Keito took him through another turn, a slow waltz led by the angel’s strong hands. Wataru’s beauty was entirely unfair with pale gold light refracting across his closed eyes. All-encompassing, toxic beauty that stained Keito with urges he had never felt until he was gifted Wataru many years ago. Like the blooms of a nightshade, soft indigo poison leaked from every brush of Wataru’s skin on his in an addicting manner. All too many times he caught himself thinking about what Wataru's pale, ever-so-slightly-parted lips would look like against his, how they would  _ feel _ , if they would move in time with Keito’s own. 

It wouldn’t hurt to satiate his own curiosity, right? There was no conceivable way to explain it, but Keito knew in his own self-assured way that this was something Wataru would have wanted. Driven by the magnetic field pulsing between the two of them, a burning beam of energy trapped between their chests, Keito leaned towards Wataru until his own breath fanned back across his face as it met Wataru’s. From there he could stare across the soft lines of skin greeting him, each individual shade of rose blending together before Keito willed himself to fall deeper, to close his eyes and bridge that minuscule gap. Wataru’s lips were soft, pleasantly and surprisingly soft, tasting of the pollen that coated the glowing sanctum and the leaf-based balm Keito would sometimes apply to keep them in shape. As soon as their lips met, it felt as if an electric current had run down Keito’s spine, anchoring him to the ground where he stood, clutching onto the skin or Wataru’s thin back so strongly that had it not been for his gloves, he would have surely torn the skin. 

This was wrong, in the worst way, but it was just as, if not even more  _ right.  _

Slowly, carefully, Keito pulled himself away from Wataru. It was disappointing, really, how he didn’t try to push back towards Keito, or say something (at all) charming or witty. Rather, he hung there in Keito’s arms, limp and motionless, eyes still closed tight. It didn’t feel real, every time he saw a man once so full of life lying without any trace of vitality left to him. With a hearty sigh, Keito lifted the thin figure back towards the marble casket, taking care to smooth out the long layers of fabric over his skin and arrange his hair neatly so that it wouldn’t risk tangling or matting.    
  


Stepping back to ensure the body was resting peacefully once more, arms crossed gently across his chest, Keito let the gentle smile that Wataru always brought to his cheeks fall away into his more stern resting expression. He brushed a stray hair away from Wataru’s face with a gentle sigh before leaning over the casket once more to press his lips against Wataru’s cool, almost waxy forehead.

  
“Sleep well, my love. I hope to see you rise again soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes i talk about...hiyojun and watakei....n angst???  
> twitter @faithconquests !!


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